Reporting the Fire
by butterflycadet02
Summary: In pursuit of her passion and justice, a reporter soon finds herself face to face with the most feared man in existence, and is left to wonder: what truly is justice, and will that justice save her? (AU, OC as protagonist, Vongola Famiglia portrayed as modern day mafia, eventual TYL!Vongola)
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys! So, this is my first fanfic. It's a little bit different than what I'm sure you're all used to, but I wanted to do this type of story as sort of a test for myself to see how well and accurate I can write this. Feedback is very much appreciated and I would like to hear all your thoughts on it!**

 **About: This fanfic is about the cast of Katekyo Hitman Reborn in an AU where they act more like… a... mafia... I know they're already a mafia, but modern mafias are more power-hungry and ambitious. I thought that it would be quite interesting to see how Tsuna and the rest of the Vongola Famiglia would act as a modern day mafia, full of pride and seeking to expand their power. I know it's a bit far from what their normal personalities would be, and I doubt it's something they'll ever do, but that's just what makes it all the more interesting. My goal is to be able to portray them in such a way while still keeping their "canon" personalities. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think! Feedback helps me improve, so again, I would really appreciate it.**

 **This chapter is more of an introductory one, so there won't be much action here, but instead, the setting and some characters will be established. There will be some OC throughout the story, but not many. The protagonist will be an OC though, and she will be elaborated more upon as the story progresses. So with all that said, please, enjoy!**

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It all started on a bleak Monday morning. My thoughts never truly processed in my mind on such days, so I guess that's why I ended up digging my own grave. I did my best, I truly did. But I guess all important things are always overlooked.

Born into a religious family, I was always told that everything happens for a reason. Whatever happens though, God will always be by my side. I never questioned it. I simply obeyed like a good little girl. Everything was fine with my parents, until they found out about my boyfriend, Riki. He was a bit of lone wolf, but a caring man nonetheless. But that wasn't what ticked them off. No, the finishing blow was the fact that I moved in with him at the age of nineteen, without marrying him. A man and a woman must be married first before living under the same roof, they would preach. So naturally, my "rebelling" was a cause of distress for them. But I didn't care. Perhaps I should have. Maybe then I wouldn't be all tied up and gagged.

I moved in with my boyfriend in an attempt to save money for college. We supported each other, and got along fairly well. But of course, every fairy tale must end. All was well until we both graduated, and moved to a small town east of where we had went to college. I had pursued my passion of journalism while he had managed to become a cop. "This way I'll be sure to earn some respect," he would joke, grinning. The company I worked for was a fairly small one. Temporary only, I was reassured. Either way, I got to do what I loved most, so I didn't mind it too much. Things were slow for a while, and then it happened. An explosion in a small town not too far from ours. I rushed to see if I could perhaps go to investigate it, but instead, my boss simply brushed me off with a quick wave of his hand. It was only after I kept insisting that it should be covered as a story, and after I was ungracefully shoved out of his office, that I was told why. "That explosion was caused by THEM," Marcelina, one of the secretaries, told me.

"Who?" My ignorant self questioned.

"THEM," she repeated, as if the knowledge of who she was talking about would miraculously pop into my head.

"Who?" I repeated, this time more firmly.

Marcelina seemed to shrink back, eyeing me nervously. I was about to walk off - I had no time to deal with this business - when another coworker by the name of Alan came up to us. "Is all this ruckus really necessary?" he commented, rubbing the back of his neck. "And just when I was thinking the day couldn't get any louder."

"How can you be so carefree?" I demanded. "Did you not hear what happened?"

He looked at me. "If you're talking about that explosion that happened over at Cambridge, then don't bother. You won't be hearing anyone in their right mind talk about it." He then leaned forward, his normally carefree and bored face taking on a more serious look. "You know why, right?" I wanted to respond with something quirky, something to retaliate against his carefreeness, but instead I simply shook my head no, a tense and nervous feeling rising up into my stomach. Alan leaned more closer until he whispered in my ear, "Vongola is their name, and you better remember it if you want to live."

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"I don't understand," I told Riki later that night during dinner. The plastic forks, knives, and plates reminded me of home, of easier times. "I thought the point of journalists was to report and publish stories. Cover them! But all that the ones at my workplace are doing is wasting such a good opportunity…"

"Uh-huh."

I paused in my eating, and glanced at Riki. "That's all you can say?"

He looked up from his plate, his face one of conflicting emotions. "What do you want me to say?"

"A reporter's job is to help people by telling them the most recent and important news. But these people are doing anything but that. They're being so useless!"

He gave me a pitiful look, and I could feel my face burn in anger. "Don't judge them too harshly," he said. "Did they tell you why they won't cover the incident?" I said no. "Well, at the station they did mention something…"

That peaked my interest. "What?"

Riki grabbed the nearby salt shaker, the one that had been a gift from a friend. He toyed with it as he spoke. "They say the explosion happened at a factory, one that distributed toys." I had to contain my dark chuckle. A toy factory of all places? I knew it was no laughing matter, but still. Why a toy factory? Riki continued.

"The factory is run by some powerful people. Because it makes seemingly harmless toys, it's praised by the whole town, especially the parents."

"Of course."

"But it's anything but harmless." By this point he had put the salt shaker down, and was now threading the table cloth through his fingers. In, out, in, out. I had loved doing that, albeit usually only when I was nervous. "The toys were pretty harmless, but the factory? It was only established to wash money for a family." I questioned him, "Family?"

"Fancy way of saying mafia gang." He sounded bitter, so I let him continue. "Said family would wash money through that factory for various clients, or so they say. It was perfect, no one suspected anything. But then, _another_ family found out about this. A rival family. One who had much to lose to this one. Naturally they wished to cripple them. And what better way than by taking out an important factor to their grand plan." He sighed. "That's all I really know. It's just mafia war. People can't do much about it."

I sputtered. "B-But-What about the police? Can't you guys do something about it? I mean, an entire factory was blown to pieces! How can people just go about their own business?"

"I'm telling you, it's _mafia_ business. Common folks can't get involved just like that, especially those who have a lot to lose." He glanced down. "Besides, the family that caused that explosion is quite powerful, maybe even the most powerful. Getting involved is like being an ant trying to fight against a whale. You can't enter their territory and they're just too big for you to fight."

Vongola, Alan had said. The name resonated in my mind as I recalled it. But who exactly were they? I didn't want to find out the answer, and yet, I wanted to.

I wanted to ask more, to argue more, to defend the innocent people who had their lives brutally taken away by that raging fire, but instead I bit my lip to prevent any further insults. I could tell Riki was feeling troubled just mentioning this type of thing, and he had already been kind enough to tell me the information he knew, so I decided to let the subject drop. I finished my meal and went about to wash the plates. The uneasiness in my stomach from earlier that day returned. This topic would not get buried beneath all the rubble, I decided. It was both my best decision, and my worst.

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 _This is all I can do for now_. My thoughts whirled around in my head. I knew I was going against everyone, especially my boss, but this was something I _had_ to do. As I paced around the printing machine impatiently, a few people glanced my way as they passed by. I greeted them as politely as I could. Some held steaming cups of coffee, while others rushed past clutching onto briefcases or manilla folders. I could imagine they had no time to deal with my petite self. I rolled my eyes with discreet and turned my attention back to the printer. The two pages had finally been processed and had been printed, the black ink standing out amidst all the white. I pulled them out and returned to my desk. Once I skimmed it over and made sure there were no errors, I grabbed my favorite pink pen, the one that had been with me since I first joined this company, and stroked my signature across the bottom.

 _Rebecca Avariella_.

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 **So there you have it! That's the first chapter of my story. I apologize if it seems a bit slow, but the action will happen in due time. Some more introductions will occur next chapter as well as some clear-ups. Please review and let me know what I can improve upon, and also all of your general thoughts too. Thanks for reading, and I hope you look forward to the next chapter!**

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	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again and HAPPY NEW YEAR! I am back with another chapter. Now, this one will have a bit more character introductions, but not too many. Although, a Vongola member will be making an appearance, so be sure to stick around to find out who ;) Again, this is a modern AU fic, so there will be some situations that take a more modern look and act, such as the Vongola Famiglia (acting like a modern mafia). Still, thank you all so much for your support and without further ado, please, I hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer (I apologize, I forgot to mention it in the previous chapter!): I do not own anything except my OCs**

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I knew hell had broken loose the moment I stepped into the office. Secretaries stopped in their conversations and dropped their voices to a whisper when I walked by. People glanced at me in disgust and tsked-tsked. I did my best to hold my head up high and found my way to my desk. As I started sorting through the morning paper, Nanami, a Japanese transfer, bounced her way to me. "Morning Rebecca," she chirped.

"Morning," I mumbled.

"Someone's cheery." She giggled. "I thought for sure you weren't gonna show up, what with your little phase going on."

I glared at her. "It's not a phase!" I snapped. "And besides, I wouldn't expect you to know."

Nanami sneered. "Excuse me, but I _was_ promoted to come here."

"Yeah, from your country." I sighed and looked away. The gems on the picture frame on my desk, the one of Riki and I, caught the office lights and sparkled, reminding me of twinkling stars. "Can you please leave me alone?"

"Trust me, I won't be the only one." She giggled and pranced away, waving her dainty fingers at me.

I made a face and looked at the story covering the front page. The title words popped out at me- EXPLOSION AT FACTORY: ACCIDENT OR INTENTIONAL? I skimmed through the short article despite having read it multiple times already. The only reason why it had even been published was because I had said it was a direct order from my boss. Though she had looked at me suspiciously, the head secretary had agreed and put it through. Since I didn't have the opportunity to actually investigate it, I had merely written a quick column about the explosion, explaining the theories and conspiracies surrounding it. That included the theory that the Vongola Famiglia were behind it. The column had technically been something quick, there weren't any in depth details about the incident, and yet, everyone looked at me like I had committed a crime. In their eyes, I had.

When the day ended and I was about to head home, Marcelina stopped by my desk. "Rebecca, Mr. Matthews would like to speak to you before you leave."

"Okay, thank you." As she walked away, I felt my face pale and my stomach become unsettled. I could handle my coworkers talking behind my back and everything, but my boss? Mr. Matthews was a well known man, and was greatly respected. When I first heard of him, I had greatly hoped that I would be given the opportunity to work for him, even if his company was a relatively small one. My wish came true and I found myself living out my dream. Nothing seemed wrong, and yet, everything was falling apart. And all because of a group of people whom society refused to even name.

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"What is the meaning of this, Miss Avariella?"

It was all I could do to not cry. The column I had proudly written now laid before me, and I couldn't even look at it. Instead, I simply stayed silent and shrugged. If I spoke, I was afraid my voice would break.

Mr. Matthews sighed, running a hand through his slick black hair. The perfect businessman. "Miss Avariella, I cannot and will not judge you. But please, just tell me, _why_ did you write this? Do you not understand the consequences of this? How this can affect you and your family?"

"I don't have a family," I lied softly, but he held up a hand to silence me.

"Don't lie to me," he responded firmly. "I've walked by your desk. I've heard your conversations on the phone. And I've seen you around town. I know you have a loved one and even though I have only seen you with him, he is still clearly your family."

I nodded, feeling like a kid who has just been caught stealing money from their mother. Of course, in a small town like ours, it was only natural for him to know a lot about me. He continued. "Miss Avariella, like I said, I won't judge, but I would like to know why. The column is written quite well so I know you put a lot of thought into it."

Where there are ups there are downs, that's what I like to think. Whenever something good happens, something bad is bound to follow. Something to balance everything out. That's what was happening now. While my column was receiving praise for having been written so well, I was also being hammered with insults, some obvious, some not so obvious. Throughout this time I had finally been able to calm myself and steel my nerves. No longer was I gonna shrivel back and cry. No, now I was gonna stand up for myself as well as for all the victims of that horrible explosion. "I wrote it to make society more aware of what is happening." I spoke firmly too. Mr. Matthews might be my boss, and I might respect him, but I refused to be stepped over like this. I hated his look full of pity for me.

Mr. Matthews closed his eyes for a moment, lowering his gaze down to his desk, then opened them again as he looked back up at me. "Miss Avariella, society is already more than aware of what is happening with this whole situation." He spoke in a low tone, almost as if he was afraid someone might hear us. He also seemed more serious, but I felt there was something else. Sadness? Anger? I couldn't tell what it was. "The people that you wanna protect so badly are _already_ being protected."

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know the history of this town?" I didn't. It was a fairly new town, it had been built while I was still in high school, but I hadn't been well informed. Overall, it was about five to six years old, and yet it still prospered. What had always been on my mind was how fast and easily it had been established. Most towns take years to go through the whole establishing process.

My boss gestured to a nearby chair, and I sat down. "This town was made for the purpose of making money. The city hall and government ruling over us is nothing but a facade. Police are nothing but a team of masked men pretending to serve us. This town… was made by the Vongola Famiglia."

That name again. "Just who is this famiglia?" I was finally getting some answers. Perhaps I could get more.

"They are the most powerful mafia in the country, maybe even the world." Mr. Matthews looked out the window. The day was now gray, and it looked like it was about to rain. I couldn't help but feel slightly bitter- if it weren't for people judging too quickly, I could be on my way home now, or maybe even already be at home. "The Vongola Famiglia… is an interesting group."

I snorted. He snapped his head back to me, and I quickly mumbled an apology. Interesting? A mafia group was _interesting_? What a strange way to put it. "They," he continued in a whisper, looking at me directly, "are said to help people. They may be quite young, but I know of the things they do, and I'm not the only one. I know they eliminate those who are against them. I know they are involved in the drug trade. I know they even tamper with human trafficking. But still, they help people. They are even helping-" he then trailed off. He pursed his lips and looked at his desk again, his eyes shut closed. As usual, I wanted to open my mouth, but I stayed quiet. Just what was really going on…

I was about to excuse myself, the conversation had gotten too serious and too involving, when Mr. Matthews finally spoke. "Please, go, Miss Avariella. You must go home now. And please, for the love of God, please stop all of this."

I stood up quickly, almost knocking over the chair. "Y-yes Mr. Matthews. Thank you." I stumbled out of the office and somehow found my way to the building's entrance. As I sped walked home, my mind kept replaying our conversation. I had been told multiple times that I was dense. Riki had actually had to tell me flat out that he wanted kiss me when I was about to close my house door in his face after one of our dates, back when we first met, despite seeing him lean forward with his eyes closing. I had assumed he was about to sneeze. My denseness had actually become a joke among us, but now I knew it was going to become a curse.

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Later that night, I couldn't sleep, so I sat on the bed with the covers sprawled all over. Riki had texted me saying he was working a late shift and would come home late. He said to go to bed without him, but his text had seemed so rushed, like he was forcing himself to write it. He had worked late many times before and all those times he had been the same- kind and caring and nothing like now.

 _Police are nothing but a team of masked men pretending to serve us_.

I shook my head, not wanting to remember my boss' words. _Not Riki_ , I thought. He was different. Unlike everyone else, he actually cared.

At that moment I heard the front door open. I paused in my breathing as I heard footsteps, and then the bedroom door open. "Riki!" I instantly recognized him.

He looked at me, surprised. "I thought you were already sleeping." He tossed off his shoes and sat next to me on the bed. I turned to flick the bedside table lamp on, but he stopped me by grabbing my arm. "Let's just stay like this." I pulled myself back and asked him if he was alright.

"I guess." He sighed. "Uhh… How was work?"

"It was alright." I was just spewing lies this day.

"Good." He paused, and even in the darkness I could see his face full of conflicting emotions. I asked about his day. "It was ok. Except they did mention something." He turned to look at me directly for the first time since he got home. I could see the frustration in his eyes. "They said _someone_ had written an article about the explosion over at Cambridge."

I bit my lip and looked away. "Technically it was only a column…"

"I don't care what it was!" He suddenly yelled, and I flinched in surprise. Riki could get mad sometimes, like any ordinary person, but this was definitely something else. "I _told_ you not to get involved. Didn't I say it wasn't any of our business?"

That riled me up. "Calm down! You're acting like I was at the scene and telling the whole damn world about it."

"You might as well have." Riki gave an exasperated sigh and placed a hand on his forehead. "Don't get me wrong. I know you're only doing your job, but this is something else. This is out of your league. Do you not understand?"

"No. I don't. I don't get why everyone is so against me reporting the incident. I'm not saying lies either. I'm not covering anything up. I'm only saying the truth." I was yelling now too. All I ever wanted to do was just help people by covering the latest news, and yet here I was, arguing with my boyfriend.

"The truth is the problem here." Riki stood up. "Do you even know what you did?"

Obviously not. I only shook my head no, not trusting my voice.

Riki took a deep breath, sounding defeated now. I decided to take this opportunity to tell him everything that Mr. Matthews had told me. "That's more or less the truth," he muttered when I finished.

"You're hiding something from me," I accused him. He quickly shook his head. "No I'm not," he hissed. "I only know what I told you and what your boss told you. Also," he paced around the room for a bit before turning his attention back to me. "My shift today? It was actually an investigation."

"Of what?"

"People were murdered at the print and delivery office." My heart fell. The print and delivery office was the place where the town's newspapers were printed and delivered, hence the name. It was only about six blocks down our street. "When?"

"Sometime today. At noon, they think. And you wanna know why?"

I didn't want to, but my voice betrayed me. "Yes."

Riki sat back on the bed's edge. "They were printing out more copies of today's newspaper. The one with your _column_ in it." He leaned back all the way back until he laid on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head. He looked so… carefree. So calm. It honestly scared me. "Apparently, Vongola didn't really like your column. Maybe you should have spend more time editing it." Was he teasing me? How? And why? At a time like this, how dare he act so nonchalant towards such a serious issue. Based on how he was acting and talking, who would even believe he cared about the innocent people dying?

Apparently, I did.

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The next day was my day off. Usually I would spent my free days relaxing or reading at home. But not today. If anything, I needed to get out of the house. So I took a stroll. As I walked around town, I thought about it. Despite having just been established, although not exactly recently, it was a beautiful and calm town. It appeared to have been designed in an old fashion, the streets had a narrow but cute appearance. The entrance greeted people with a wooden sign reading: VARI: A TOWN OF PEACE AND LOVE. Yes, like any other town, Vari had many interesting places to see, such as the newly built dance studio, the gently moving windmills, and the print and delivery office.

The print and delivery office.

"Peace and love my ass." I couldn't help but remember what Riki had told me the night before. How metal trucks had shown up at the office. How a group of people had jumped out with machine guns and just like that, fired a storm of bullets upon the workers. All evidence of newspapers and articles had been burned and shredded. What interested me though was that a witness, who had survived the whole ordeal by some miracle, claimed that the men who attacked were dressed as if they were going to attend a formal dinner party. "You know, fancy," Riki had added for emphasis. At least he had returned to his old self. What a bipolar bastard.

I closed my eyes and leaned against a nearby wall, feeling a headache creep up on me. _I can't get sick now_. My mind desperately tried to fight off the upcoming feelings, but I knew it was all in vain. Just as I felt about to pass out, I felt someone grab my arm. "Are you alright?" I looked up. It was Diane, the teacher at the dance studio. Gazing around in a daze, I became more aware of my surroundings. Somehow I had wound up at the prestigious, and only, dance studio in town.

"Thank you Diane. I'll be fine." I tried to pull away, but I could not compete with her grip, strong with years of rigorous training.

"Nonsense Rebecca. Look at you, you can barely stand up. Come inside for a little while and rest up." She urged me inside the studio as she recognized me.

A lot of people regard dance as a way of expressing one's self without actually speaking. I guess that's why Diane is such an amazing dancer. The one thing she values the most aside from dance, is her freedom of expression. In fact, we bonded over it. I expressed myself through writing, and she, through dancing. We made an odd yet compatible couple, her with her short blond locks and me with my long brown tresses.

Inside the dance studio, Diane and I moved to the main room, where all the dancers practiced. It was a large room with a wooden floor and an entire mirror covering the wall at one of its ends. Lining up the other walls were barres and cabinets. I found a nearby chair and sat down in it. A young girl with a red ribbon tied in her hair approached and handed me a small cup of water. "Here you go Miss Rebecca." I thanked her and accepted it. The cool liquid filled my mouth and ran down my throat, easing my growing headache for a moment. I leaned back, setting aside the cup, and listened to Diane talk.

"I must admit, Rebecca, you sure are bold for a newcomer." More girls were starting to enter the room and take their places on the floor. "I would have never thought you of all people would even think about publishing something like _that_."

"I'm not a newcomer. And why did you invite me here if you have a practice going on?" I was in no mood to hear about my "phase" again.

"No no. Don't take it the wrong way. I'm glad you spoke out. I'm tired of everything that has been going on here. This whole town is corrupted by that damn family." She turned to the girls. "Places everyone. It's that time again."

"What time?" I asked. I had been interested in their dancing. The girls all seemed around the same age, no more than seventeen or eighteen years old. Maybe I could strike up a real article this time. One that people would actually read before judging.

"Oh, just time for a special dance." Diane gave me tight smile. Before I could ask anything more, she turned to the girl who had attended me. "Do you know when she's getting here?" The girl shook her head. "I see. Rebecca, do you mind if you-" At that moment, the main door opened, and soon, a young girl stepped into the room we were in. She was dressed in a strange uniform that reminded me of a military one. It consisted of a dark, jungle green colored jacket with a matching skirt, one that was way too short for her. But what caught my attention was her unique hair color, which was a dark purple, and the black eye patch covering her right eye. Her visible left eye was a beautiful violet.

The girl looked around until she saw Diane. She approached her, and her footsteps echoed throughout the room, courtesy of her tall black boots. "Hello, Diane." Her voice was soft, like a silk blanket. Diane didn't seem to think so, though. Her beautiful face took on a scowl. "I came here for our monthly meeting."

"I know what you're here for. Must you keep reminding me?" Diane turned back to me. "Are you feeling alright now, Rebecca?"

"Rebecca?" The girl turned to look at me too. She seemed interested. "You're the one who wrote the article?"

I felt my face burn slightly. "Yes, I am." For some reason, I felt uneasy.

"How interesting." She turned back to Diane. "I want her to watch today's dance."

"She was just about to leave. She's not feeling well."

"She looks fine to me."

"Looks can be deceiving." Diane glared at her, but after a moment, turned to her students. I could tell, and she knew too, that she had lost. "Girls, let's start." The girls looked rather nervous, as if they were about to perform a life or death dance.

The music began and the performers moved around the dance floor. I sat there, mesmerized, watching their whirls and movements. The dancers were fluid, they moved around in harmony with the music. The girl with the eye patch stood next to me and began to speak in that soft voice. "They are dancing a dance called the tarantella. It originated in southern Italy. The people believed it was the only cure for a poisonous spider bite. They believed dancing the tarantella would cause you to sweat out the poison."

"That's very interesting. Are you from Italy?"

"In a way, yes." I could feel a headache coming back, so I immediately excused myself as she turned her attention to the dancers. I went outside the dance studio, feeling the cool air hit my face. After a while, I poked my head back into the main room.

"Please, tell Diane I'll drop by in a little while. I'm just going down to the pharmacy." I felt bad for ordering around a girl I just met, but she didn't seem to mind. Instead, she gave me a small smile and nodded. With that, I turned on my heel and began walking towards the pharmacy, hoping to find something to soothe my growing headache. As I made my way there, I thought about the dark-purple haired girl. I lost the uneasy feeling I felt when she had first talked to me. She was pretty quiet, but she seemed nice.

 _I'd like to get to know her better_.

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Inside the dance studio, the dancers stopped in their movements as the music died down. From the back, the girl with the eye patch, the one with her dark purple hair tied back in a strange hairstyle, did a slow clap. "Nice job, as usual. But it was still a dull dance."

Diane glared at her. "We can never please you, can we?" She sighed angrily, then looked around the room. "Where's-"

"If you're looking for the woman who was here before, she left. I'm sure she has better things to do than watch your boring dance." The girl looked around the dance floor, eyeing each each of their classmates' nervous faces.

Diane stepped in front of her. "Well if that's all you have to say, then hurry up and do your thing. My girls and I don't have time for this."

The girl looked at her. "Fine." She paced the room back and forth, until finally, she pointed to a random girl, one with a red ribbon in her hair. "I'll take that one. She had the most passion out of all of your students." As the rest of the girls visibly relaxed, she added, "but she was still pretty dull."

Diane turned to the dancers. "Please, help Melodia get ready." The group of girls surrounded the one that had been chosen and guided her to some nearby stairs. As they ran up the stairs, Diane turned to the purple haired girl. "When will this end?"

The girl shrugged. "The decision is not mine, but my boss's."

"Just answer me this." Diane's strong and firm voice had taken on a more sad and tearful note. "Are they- Are the other girls alright?"

"I guess. I don't know. No one really knows." At that moment, the chosen girl, Melodia, came down from upstairs, a pink duffle bag over her shoulder. "That was fast. Perhaps you had a feeling and knew. Shall we leave then?"

Melodia sniffled. She appeared to have been crying. "Yes…

 _Miss Chrome_."

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 **And that's it for today! I apologize if it's going a bit slow, but I promise the story is building up. I know it may not be something you're all used to, but again, that's just what makes it a special treat! As for characters, I also apologize if they may seem a bit OOC, I am doing my best to keep them as in-character as I possibly can, while still having that hint of cruelty gangsters and mafia members are known to have. Either way, please review and let me know on what I can improve upon! I apologize for any mistakes I might have made too.**

 **With all that said, thank you so much for reading another chapter, I hope you enjoyed it, and I hope you look forward to the next!**

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	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! Soooo sorry for the late chapter. I've been having some personal problems and am currently solving it all. I haven't exactly fixed it all though, so I will be updating the story a little bit more slowly. I apologize, but thank you so much for all of your support, it really means a lot to me! So for now, we will be visited again by another member of the Vongola Famiglia! I'm not sure if you'll recognize him immediately though, especially since it's not given directly like Chrome was, but nevertheless, I hope you enjoy! And again, I apologize for any mistakes; please review and let me know your thoughts as well as what I can improve upon!**

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After buying and taking some recommended headache reliever pills, I made my way back to the dance studio. My mind wandered back to the strange girl as I walked. Even though it had felt like I was the one commanding her when I left, I felt the strange sensation that in reality, she was the one pulling the strings. Yet at the same time, someone with her quiet and calm nature seemed unfit to be a leader.

By this time I found myself at the dance studio. Even before I entered the main dance room I could feel a difference in the air than when I left. It felt more… heavy, like something was going to happen. Or worse, that something had already happened. I tried to shake it off as I went in.

The first thing I saw when I entered the room was a group of girls huddled together. I felt disappointed that I had missed their performance even though it was just a practice one. I looked around the room for Diane, but couldn't locate her. "Excuse me," I called out. The girls jumped a bit. "Oh sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

They all glanced at each other before one of them said, "It's alright. Are you looking for someone?" I asked for Diane and she pointed towards the back, to a nearby closet. "She's just putting away some things." I thanked them and went to look for her.

Inside the closet were a number of items. Blue mats, costumes with ruffles, and all sorts of shelves aligned the walls. In the middle of the whole mess, bending over a large mat, was Diane. I started to call out to her, but my breath got caught in my throat, causing my voice to come out more weaker and softer. Diane's head shot up, and she angrily shot, "Back again?" I flinched, being caught completely off guard by her anger and harsh tone. Her face changed when she recognized me. "Oh, Rebecca… I'm so sorry, I thought you were…" -a pause- "...someone else."

"It's alright, but is everything okay? You never speak like that." And it was true. Diane was not only known for her amazing dancing abilities, but for her kindness as well. Most of her students claimed that there was no one who could get mad at her for long. I certainly couldn't.

Diane smiled. "Yes Rebecca, everything is fine. But I should really be asking you that. You left without even saying a word."

"I did though. I asked the girl who was here to tell you that I was going to the pharmacy to get something." That reminded me. "Where is she by the way? I didn't see her when I came back."

"Oh she just had to leave to handle some business."

"Really?" I chuckled. "It's strange for a girl like her to have _business_ to attend to. I mean, she's so young, younger than your students even."

Diane made a sound that sounded a lot like a cross between a huff and a snort of laughter. "Don't be deceived by her innocence. Actually no… That bitch is anything but innocent."

Now I definitely wasn't expecting that. "I-I don't know a lot," was all I could mutter lamely. I looked down at the ground. Just like before, at the office, something was being obscured. Yet again, not even at a simple dance studio, could I relax without being met with another form of resistance. It was as frustrating as it was mysterious.

I heard a sigh and then Diane said, "Well Rebecca it's not your fault. Come, let's go back and maybe we could perform a dance together." She giggled as she moved closer to me and grabbed my arm. "Come on, let's go. The dancers are still-"

"Would you just stop?" I broke in. I was tired, both physically and mentally. First my coworkers, then my boss, finally my boyfriend. And now Diane too? She had always been strong and never let anyone walk over her. And yet here she was, seemingly being controlled by what? A little girl? Something was wrong and I was not gonna stand around idly. "What is _wrong_ with you? First you were mad and now you're all cheery? What is going on?" I could feel my eyes getting watery. I wasn't feeling any sadness so I figured I was starting to tear up over my angry feelings.

Diane looked at me with a blank face. She stared at me while I calmed down. When I finally did, I apologized. "Sorry. I guess I'm just mad over… over everything that's been going on. I know it's only been a while, but people keep judging me so quickly. It's like I committed a crime. All I ever wanted to do was just live a peaceful life. Do my work in a small company and then move on to something bigger. But now everyone hates me, including my boss and even my own damn boyfriend."

"Oh Rebecca," Diane murmured. "No one hates you. People are just a bit confused over how quickly and boldly someone has started bringing previous unspoken topics to light. They have trouble adapting to such a quick change that they act irrationally." She smiled sadly. "Let's go talk upstairs." She led me outside of the closet and out the door just as some girls were leaving. "Melo- I mean, Katherine, could you please put the rest of the materials away? Thank you." As we went up some nearby stairs, I remembered something. "Hey, where's the girl that attended me too? I didn't see her back there." I remembered her even more because of the cherry red ribbon she had tied in her brown hair.

"Most girls have already left."

"Yeah, but she seemed like the kind to stay behind and help."

By this point we had reached the top and were in a narrow wooden hallway. As we walked down and past the rooms, I could see students making their beds, folding clothes, or simply just sitting on chairs reading or listening to music. One girl poked her head out and smiled at Diane as we passed her room. "Did Miss Chrome leave already, Miss Diane?" Her voice was hoarse, as if she was sick.

"Yes Gabriella. You can rest easy. Luckily, she did not ask for you."

"Please, with my lousy skills I doubt I would even be able to _impress_ her." She managed to giggle before choking on her breath. After a small coughing session, she laughed and looked back up at her dance teacher. "Sorry ma'am, I guess you're busy. I'll let you go on with your wonderful and pleasant day." She giggled again and retreated back into her room, shutting the door behind her.

"She was very lively," I commented as we entered another was bare, with only a filmsy mattress beneath the one window and a wooden chair in a corner.

"She is, and she's also one of my best dancers. I'm so proud of her!" Her excitement returned as she walked over to the mattress. She plopped down and gestured for me to follow. I sat next to her as she said, "Rebecca, do you know how this studio came to be?"

From what I understood, Diane herself had requested for a dance studio to be made. The people apparently loved dance. "It started with a good heart, my good heart," she began after I shook my head no. "When I first came to this town, I saw so many poor girls and those who wished for independence. They only wanted to live out their lives peacefully, yet close to home. I understood them, I too, once sought out myself. I was a bit of a rebel and only wanted peace and tranquility, but my parents wouldn't hear any of it. They insisted that I go to school and focus on a science career. While it is a beautiful subject to look into, I felt it was unfair both to the subject and to my peers around me to focus on something that my heart wasn't into. So, I left my home as soon as I graduated high school."

She laughed and gave my arm a light punch. "Like you, I drifted around with my boyfriend. Yes, believe it or not, I had a boyfriend once! We got along alright, but I think we were only together so we wouldn't be faced with loneliness. We were convenient for each other, so we stayed together. But then, just like that, one day, we decided to part- he had found a job at a factory that offered him a stable home, but since I was a wanderer, I decided to continue exploring the country. And for the first time in my life, I was truly alone. I had no idea what to do, all these times before I had my friends or even my parents to guide me. Sure, in my opinion, they guided me in the wrong way, but they were still there. I had a life jacket, something that would help keep me afloat whenever I fell into the river of life. But not anymore.

"So, with steely determination, I moved to another town. As I wandered around aimlessly around its streets, an old lady saw me, and offered me a place to spend the night at a nearby shelter where she volunteered at. That night, as I laid on the hard, cold floor barely able to keep my eyes opened, I sensed something. And even though I was dying of sleep, I managed to peel open an eye, and there I saw it. A young woman was dancing, but there was no music playing. She was basked in the white of the moonlight. The way she moved and leaped, all silent, was mesmerizing to me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, I fell asleep to her dancing. The next morning, I made the decision to become a dancer, and spread the joy and life of it to others. " She stopped in her reminiscing to look at me. "I know it's not the most interesting thing to hear, but now is where the real story begins and I must ask you to keep everything I tell you henceforth a secret. Understand?"

I nodded, and Diane continued. "I traveled around for a while until I became the dancer I am today. Somehow I found myself here, in the small town of Vari. I decided I wanted to settle down here, and perhaps do some performances for the people, when I noticed the girls that roamed around. They reminded me so much of my past self, that I felt obligated to help them. So, with the help of the townsfolk, I bought this building and made some rooms. The girls would then be able to stay here and either work or continue studying while staying close to home. It would be a perfect way to them to live without being in danger. As an added bonus, I made a dance room where I could teach dance. The girls that worked would pay me what they could, but the ones who didn't or couldn't would pay off their rent by practicing and participating in our performances. Those who were too shy would simply help with costumes or props. It was a simple life, but a beautiful one. The town might be well, but that doesn't mean the people are too. Seeing my girls work hard to sustain themselves brought me such joy. I thought it would stay this way forever, but I was very wrong."

"The idea of having a dance studio with a shelter was a well liked idea. It was sort of like a school with dorms. Everyone loved it, and it caught everyone's attention, but it also caught the interest of someone terrible. By this point, a young boy had attained the power he inherited from a higher position. This boy, desired power as well as fame. So he took a more firm control of the town, and he started here, at this very dance studio." Diane paused. Her eyes started filling up with tears. For some reason, mine were too.

"He marched in one day, and said that he would 'rebuild' this town if we didn't do what he said. I had no choice but to accept. Not for me of course. But for the townspeople as well as for my girls. Oh, what irony." She looked at me. "My girls were the very thing he was after. Starting on that day, he said each month one girl would be chosen by a representative sent by him in order to perform a special dance for him and his gang. A _supposed_ special dance. That was three years ago. And that's what happened again today. It was choosing time."

"Was that what that dance today was about?" A nod. "But you said a representative would come. I didn't see anyone suspicious today." No sooner had the words left my mouth that I realized. It couldn't possibly be-

"The strange girl you saw here before is the representative. She comes by every month to pick someone."

I blinked, unsure. "But she's so young. I mean, how-?"

"Youth has nothing to do with it honey. She's as cruel as the man, rather, the _boy_ , she works for."

I decided to question the obvious. "But I mean, if it's just to do some silly dance for the family head, then what's the problem? They can just go and do it and then be done with it right?"

"Not necessarily." Diane leaned forward, eyeing me with an interest. Perhaps my ignorance of the whole situation was starting to annoy her. "The girls that go with her are taken directly to the head, yes, but from then on no one knows what happens. All the girls he has ever taken are never brought back."

"And you don't ask?"

"Of course I do!" she snapped at me. "I _care_. That's the whole reason I started the dance studio, to care for innocent girls. But now all of this happened." She paused to take an angry breath. "They claim that the reason they don't come back is because they were so _talented_ that they just _had_ to send them off to become professional dancers. But we all know it's nothing but a lie to cover up the truth."

Yet again, it was just as I had suspected- in reality, the town was nothing but a cover up for something more big. But I still had no idea for what exactly. Instead, I simply sighed. "I'm sorry for all that you and your students have been going through. I honestly want to help, but I seem to keep being knocked down."

"It's not your fault Rebecca. All of the people are in the same position, believe it or not. It's a real struggle even though it all looks pretty on the outside." Diane stood up and gave me a small smile. "I just hope you don't lose your way too."

"Believe me, I intend not to." Even though I said it, I wasn't really confident in the promise I was making, or rather, trying to make, to her. I stood up. "I should leave. I don't want to make you remember more painful things." Before Diane could argue, I stridded out the door and into the warm, afternoon sunlight. I moved through the busy streets, thinking about the young dancers.

While they seemed like simple girls wanting to learn dance, in reality, they were nothing more than chess pieces, being manipulated by that Vongola family.

As I walked down the streets, I knew I had to keep telling the world about the situation at hand. But in doing so… "I'll endanger people." That realization stopped me in my tracks. Yes, indeed I could. Just because people heard and understood their troubles didn't necessarily mean they could stop them. And I was bringing more attention to them. So far my actions hadn't caused trouble as of yet.

I looked to my side and realized I had unknowingly arrived at the news company. My workplace. The very place I wanted to get away from. Standing there, in front of the place that started it all, I made a silent vow.

I had to remain quiet until I earned a higher status. Only then could I truly help these people.

I remembered my column. I had merely written theories, but I now knew what I needed. I needed facts, and only when I attained more influence could I do that. Even with an unbearable pain in my heart, I decided to shut my mouth. My thoughts swam in my mind and I sent a silent prayer to the people inhabiting this corrupted town.

 _Please hold on a little longer. I swear I will help you all when the time is right!_

That vow was made more than nine years ago.

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 _~9 Years Later~_

"Congratulations, Rebecca!"

"What will you be dedicating yourself to now?"

"I hope you will keep on writing!"

"Are your plans to report further investigations?"

Amidst all the cheering and questions surrounding me, I barely registered their words. All that ran through my mind was my accomplishment– I was finally being recognized as a full fledged journalist; I was now my own boss. This meant my hard work was being rewarded, and I couldn't help but swell with pride. Yet with that pride, came the carelessness.

"Oh! Vigge, I had no idea you would be here!" Mr. Matthews, now a graying man, stepped aside, allowing a young male to approach me. He looked to be about in his mid-teens, yet a rather cool and collected aura seemed to be emitting from him.

"I apologize for the sudden intrusion, but I simply had to come in and see for myself who the new lovely investigative journalist was." He gave a slightly lopsided smile, and all I could do was stupidly return it.

"Congratulations Miss Rebecca. I have heard so many wonderful things about you."

"Oh, not really. I still have much to learn." I examined his face more thoroughly now that he was more closer to me. Though I had never seen him before, he appeared rather normal. What intrigued me a little was his interesting choice of accessories. He wore a white dress shirt and black dress shirt, but his tie clashed slightly with its black and white spotted print. I didn't pay it much mind though.

"I'm sure that's an understatement." He turned back to Mr. Matthews. "I start today correct?"

After a quick nod, the youth turned back to me. "You see, I will be starting a small internship here today. I do hope to see how you and the others work in the field." Extending his arm out in greeting, he added, "My name is Vigge Rai, by the way."

"And I am Rebecca Avariella. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Rai."

"No need for formalities." His smile seemed to falter a bit as we exchanged greetings, but then it returned. "Well, I must get going. I have a call I need to make. Best of luck, Miss Rebecca."

"Thank you, good luck with your internship as well," I called after him. As I watched his retreating form I was swarmed with more people questioning my future. I did my best to answer them, and soon the new intern named Vigge Rai left my mind. It was a mistake that would ultimately cost me what I deemed most dear– freedom.

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 **And there you have it! I apologize for the long delay, but thank you so much for still sticking with me. I'm sorry if the chapter seemed a bit weird, but do not worry– the ones to come will expand and shed some light on things :D And I know that time skip seemed pretty sudden, but I swear it is setting the stage for things to come! The next chapter will explore things through a slightly different view, so I hope you look forward it! Thank you so much, and I truly hoped you enjoyed it!**

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